


By your side, beyond the end

by la_esperance



Series: The Game is On collection [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 03:39:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_esperance/pseuds/la_esperance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written to <i>Death of a Planet</i> which was composed by Sheridan Tongue for the <i>Wonders of the Universe</i> soundtrack and written for the “timeless requiem” prompt.</p>
    </blockquote>





	By your side, beyond the end

**Author's Note:**

> Written to _Death of a Planet_ which was composed by Sheridan Tongue for the _Wonders of the Universe_ soundtrack and written for the “timeless requiem” prompt.

It wasn’t dawn yet…which was good. That was good. It meant that they still had time.

Lestrade blinks twice, letting his eyes adjust to the dimness surrounding the room. He recognizes the trompe l’oeil design that covers the ceiling until the cream colored cornices. He knows that to his right are French windows which open out to the vast manicured gardens. The soft silk sheets beneath him are ones he has slept on countless of times and never alone. Especially tonight.

He rolls over, smiling as his gaze falls on the man beside him. This other man is staring up at the ceiling in a half-lidded gaze as if lost in thought, but Lestrade’s movement doesn’t escape him. The man smiles and lays his hand on Lestrade’s stomach.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Mycroft whispers calmly but Lestrade has learned to read the little twitches that reveal the inner turmoil.

Of course, he couldn’t sleep. Lestrade has been with Mycroft long enough to know just what burdens he carried. He doesn’t pretend that he can help Mycroft with every one of them but Lestrade knows that this particular burden, the one they had to face come morning, is one that Mycroft couldn’t and shouldn’t carry alone. 

So he scoots closer until the front of his body is pressed to Mycroft’s side. Taking Mycroft’s arm, he lays it across Mycroft’s chest and drapes his arm over it, entwining their fingers in the process.

“You make me feel like an irresponsible chump for not comforting you through the night.” Lestrade teases as he runs his fingers through Mycroft’s hair. “I’m sorry for that.”

“No.” Mycroft answers fiercely, turning to him. “Don’t, Greg. We don’t have time for that.”

Lestrade leans in and kisses Mycroft deeply and slowly. “You’re such a goose.” He leans up on an elbow and kisses Mycroft again. “Let’s go outside.

So saying, he bounds up and off the bed. Mycroft follows him a little slowly, pausing only to grab the bed sheets which carry the scent of their lovemaking in its very fibers. They don’t turn on the light. They’ve memorized the lay-out of the room and they trust that neither of them had left anything lying around that could cause stubbed toes.

They make their way down the stairs, never letting go of each other’s hands. It is only when they are near the porch doors that Mycroft turns and says that he has to get something. Lestrade exits to the garden and lays the sheets on the grass. He sits and turns towards the house just in time to see Myrcoft walking through the door with something in his hands.

“Honestly, Mycroft.” Lestrade says incredulously, staring at the old-fashioned umbrella that Mycroft is carrying. “You went back inside to get that?”

“It might get too sunny.”

 _It might get too sunny._ Lestrade snorts at that. Trust Mycroft to make light of everything, even the end of the world.

“Well, come on then.” Lestrade calls out, waving Mycroft to the empty spot beside him. “The world’s not going to wait for you.”

Mycroft walks briskly and sits down. Immediately, he leans close and places his head on Lestrade’s shoulder.

“But you wait for me. Always…” Mycroft murmurs. “That’s all that matters to me.”

Lestrade drapes his arm over Mycroft’s shoulder and pulls him closer, “I love you.”

Mycroft tilts his head and kisses Lestrade’s jaw line. “I love you.”

Lestrade chuckles and moves so that he is sitting behind Mycroft, his thighs against Mycroft’s hips, his legs stretched forward alongside Mycroft’s. They can see a soft yellow glow in the horizon and they know that soon, dawn will come.

He feels a tremor of fear course through him. He always thought that he’d never see this day, the day the sun turned supernova. He’d always believed the scientists who assured them that the sun had several billion years to go.

But here they are and Lestrade has to take deep breaths to calm the sudden surge of panic.

“I’m here, Greg.” Mycroft whispers as he leans back and rests his head against Lestrade’s shoulder.

And those words are all he needs to hear. Lestrade tightens his embrace around Mycroft, nuzzling Mycroft’s neck and kissing his ear. Yes, they had both prepared for this together. If he were to choose, he’d choose this, being with Mycroft at the end of everything.

Mycroft opens his umbrella and, together, they watch the sun rise in a final blaze of glory.


End file.
